


Nothing's in the Flowers

by shoemaster



Category: Bon Appétit Test Kitchen RPF
Genre: Camping, First Time, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster/pseuds/shoemaster
Summary: You can find all sorts of things in the woods.





	Nothing's in the Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [la_dissonance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_dissonance/gifts).



> I got my assignment about half an hour after watching that foraging for mushrooms episode and I couldn’t help myself. Happy yuletide la_dissonance!
> 
> Uh, please keep this on the down low, everyone. It's obviously very fake.
> 
> Title from Company of Thieves. Thanks to doctor_denmark for letting me write this at her and angelsaves for the beta.

Being back in the woods was making Vince tetchy, but fortunately, so far, no one had noticed. Not even Brad; he just kept chatting with Colin and periodically throwing out his arms and saying, "Nothing's better than this. Are you getting this?"

Which was fine. The woods in the northern Cascades were nothing like the woods upstate, and Brad shouldn't be chopping anything this time around, or wielding a mandoline, so there shouldn't be any opportunities for Vince to offer to kiss anything better and make things weird.

Again.

They were going to be fine.

(He only winced a little when Brad pulled out his knife and started slicing off slivers of the stem of the porcini.)

Vince was going to be fine; they'd gone on trips for the show since that first time camping, and he'd kept it together just fine. The him of season one just wasn't used to Brad yet: his laugh, his teasing smile, the nicknames, the general handsiness. By this point, Vince was practically an expert. He'd never be able to predict what came out of Brad's mouth, but he generally knew what Brad would _do_ and could adapt as needed.

*

They only had the one tent this time around, so Vince had to put the camera down and help with the setup.

"No way are you getting to make another one of them blooper videos, pal. All ‘oh, isn't it hilarious that Brad can't figure out all these stupid poles'. You only set yours up so easy after that because you saw how I did it."

"It _was_ hilarious," Vince pointed out. Three-quarters of a million people agreed with him, but he decided not to say it. They needed to get the tent set up before sundown and had to stay focused.

The sky was more purple than blue by the time they finished and threw their sleeping bags inside, so Vince was quick to agree when Brad said, "Fuck it, I need a drink."

*

The treetops obscured most of the night sky, so Vince let himself be dragged down to the lakeshore, even though he was pretty tired after a day of filming. 

"This is the good stuff, Vinny," Brad said, pressing their shoulders together as they fit themselves on a mossy log. He was warm and solid, so even though Vince could see his own breath, he didn't miss the heat of the fire at all. 

"Like, shit, man, you never get a sky like this back home. I didn't know there were so many stars, did you?"

They'd had a similar conversation last season, but Vince nodded. "Even more than last time."

"Is it because we're higher up this time? No, that's not a thing, but you know what I mean."

He always liked it when Brad did this, carrying his half of the conversation and then some. "It's clearer tonight," he offered. "Sharper."

"Yeah! That good mountain air, like HD or something."

The moonlight reflecting off the lake was enough for Vince to make out the contentment on Brad's face as he grinned up at the stars, and he almost wished he still had his camera. Getting Brad to hold still long enough for the exposure would be a challenge, but it would be worth it. 

"That one's Orion, right? The Hunter. Do you think there's a forager up there? Or a mushroom constellation?"

Vince laughed a little and shrugged. "Maybe."

They sat there until a gust of wind lifted the hair from the back of Vince's neck and sent goosebumps snaking down his spine. 

"You're shivering, Vinny! Shoot, no one's gonna let us travel again if you get frostbite."  
Brad heaved himself up and grabbed at Vince's hand to pull him up, too. He didn't actually need the help, so Brad's effort just resulted in Vince crashing into his chest. 

Vince took a deep breath and stepped back. "Thanks, but if we didn't get frostbite in Alaska, I think we'll be OK here."

"That's how it gets you, Vin." Brad put both his hands on Vince's shoulders and steered him back to the tent. "You get in there and get cozy, I'll douse the fire so ol' Smokey the Bear doesn't come after us."

Vince nodded and resisted making a ‘slip into something more comfortable' joke. Instead he settled for unlacing his boots and saying, "But if Yogi comes by, let me know."

Brad threw his head back and laughed. "He should've been by for our picnic baskets earlier today, back when we had that good shit."

"The mushrooms or…" Vince asked, knowing it would make Brad laugh just like that.

"It's legal here, Vinny. It's legal, so I bet he's got his own stash."

Vince was pretty sure Yogi lived in Yellowstone, and he wasn't sure what the marijuana laws were like in Wyoming, but it wasn't important anyway. Not compared to Brad crawling half into the tent and kicking off his own shoes.

"Cozy in here, huh? We're gonna be snug as a couple of bugs in rugs."

He'd been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about how close they would be sleeping, right up until Brad mentioned it. "Peas in pods," he said, in an attempt to be casual about it.

"Nothing better."

He listened to Brad shimmy into his sleeping bag, only catching a few elbows and knees in the process, and tried not to think about how sincerely Brad had said that. He was always saying how they had the best jobs in the kitchen, maybe even the world; and sometimes he'd add, "‘cause I get to do it with you, Vin." 

Like Vince had anything to do with it. Anyone could shoot Brad and edit on the little graphics, the jokes weren't hard to find when you went through the footage, it wasn't rocket science. But Brad had made it impossible to edit around the existence of Vince. Not just any camera person, Vince himself. It was, well, it was great job security, but it was also flattering and a little overwhelming sometimes. It also meant that if Vince had to leave for...some reason, that Brad's show might suffer for it. Sure, it was just a little YouTube channel, but it was enough to make him hesitate, even on warm summer nights in Brad's backyard with ribs and pork chops, three kinds of beer and two kinds of whiskey. Andrew had looked at Vince with a touch of pity when he caught Vince staring, but he'd just passed him another beer. Claire had given him a vague "hang in there" as she packed up her desk the month before.

But it was fine, they were great friends, amazing coworkers doing the kind of shit that Vince couldn't believe he got paid for. Hell, Adam had mentioned something about Italy before they left the office for this trip.

"I can hear the gears grinding over there, pal. What are you thinking so heavy about?"

"Nothing. Just Italy."

"Italy! The mother country. It's gonna be amazing, Vinny. We're drinking nothing but wine and espresso the whole time we're there, I promise you that. And the food, oh man, I know the Italians are gonna treat us right, but I'm gonna make sure they treat you right, or my last name isn't Leone."

Vince drifted off to the sound of Brad making a meal itinerary that sounded like it would take a month to consume.

*

He woke up to an empty tent, very aware of the cooler air on his back where the sleeping bag wasn't zipped up all the way. Brad's sleeping bag was half wrapped around him, and Vince wondered how he'd gotten out of it quietly enough not to wake him, and without sending any more elbows Vince's way.

He rubbed a hand over his face and hoped Brad had already started the coffee, even if he didn't have a three-zone fire and a four-course breakfast waiting. But his hopes were dashed when he unzipped the two flaps of the tent - and seriously, Brad could have just woken Vince up instead of using up his monthly allotment of grace and stealth getting out of the tent - and saw a cold fire pit waiting in the glen.

"Brad?" Vince called out, just in case Brad was nearby, but got no response.

He must have gone all the way back to the main campsite where there were actual bathrooms, but Vince didn't bother with that now. There was no one else around, and he was too tired to give a shit.

The Purell he had stashed in his bag made his hands feel weird, so he headed down to the lake to rinse them off. Maybe by the time he got back, Brad would be there, and they could make some decisions about packing up and looking for breakfast in town or seeing what was left in Brad's cooler.

Vince stopped at the edge of the trees, while his brain tried to make sense of what his eyes saw in front of him. Brad was standing at the edge of the lake, peeling off his jacket, sweatshirt, and shirt and tossing them on the ground, over a pile of what looked like wildflowers.

"Brad?" The word let loose a small puff in the cold air. "You OK, man?"

"Hey, Vinny! I'm all good, just a little warm, so I thought I'd take a quick dip to cool off." His voice sounded a little off, like they were on Skype and Brad was speaking on a delay. Vince frowned; he was pretty sure the Colin and Andy took the weed with them when they left. It wasn't impossible to think Brad had found someone else to wake and bake with, but it didn't explain the rest of it. 

When they were in Alaska, Brad spent an hour on Google looking up hypothermia and how fast he could get it if he fell in the water because, "I swim pretty well, OK, I'm all right. I mean, I'm not going to drown right away or nothing, but I don't want to become a Bradsicle out there for all the crabs, you know?"

Vince hadn't been too worried on the boat; there were plenty of experienced guys around, and life preservers and below deck was warm enough. Now? They didn't even have the campfire going.

He moved quickly over the rocky shore to get closer to Brad. "Yeah, you do look a little flushed. You feeling OK? You didn't go foraging alone, did you?" Fuck, if Brad had eaten something, Vince was not looking forward to trying to get him to puke it up.

"No way, I was just out for a morning constitutional. Got you some flowers for your coffee, nothing but the finest amenities out here."

 _Flowers?_ Vince would have to deal with that later. "I'll be sure to leave you five stars on Yelp. Now, why don't we get back to camp and see about that coffee, huh?"

Brad swayed towards him, ignoring the pile of clothes on the ground. Vince eyed them, but fuck it, he could grab them later, once he got some water that wasn't nearly freezing into Brad. When Brad shuffled up the shore and fell into step next to Vince, Vince finally relaxed a little bit, and when they were back at the tree line, he put a hand on Brad's back, trying to encourage him even further away from the lake.

Brad hissed at the contact, and Vince quickly pulled his hand back. "Sorry!" The brief contact had been enough for Vince to notice that Brad _was_ warm. Really warm.

He didn't get a chance to wonder what that meant, because the next thing he knew, Vince was shoved back against a tree with Brad's face buried in his neck. The scrape of Brad's stubble against his skin sent a jolt through Vince, like every nerve in his body had disappeared except the ones right there. He could feel the warmth of Brad's breath ghosting over his skin, but it took a moment to realize Brad was saying something, and a few more after that to realize he was saying Vince's name.

"Vinny, Vinny. Vincenzo." He dragged out the last one, and Vince couldn't help a small shiver. "You always look so good. And you smell so good, even on a fishing boat. It's not fair."

Vince thought that the whine of Brad's voice might also have been an echo of his brain screeching to a halt.

"Can I touch you? Please, let me. I _need_ -"

"Brad," a word finally falling off Vince's tongue, which suddenly felt like it weighed twenty pounds. "You _are_." He didn't understand the question. It didn't feel like there was a point on his body that wasn't in contact with Brad's, from their shins up to their necks. Then Brad shifted, and _oh_.

"Is that a chanterelle in your pocket or are you just -" Vince cut himself off when Brad started rocking a little against him, and fuck if that didn't get his dick standing at attention, too.

This didn't make any _sense_ , one minute Brad was acting like he ate something weird and now he was begging Vince and, oh fuck, dropping to his knees in the mulch. "Fuck, Brad."

"Please, Vinny, I want to. I always want to. Right in the kitchen, in the fridge -" 

_No one tell the health and safety guys_ , Vince thought to himself, biting down on his lip to keep the tinge of hysteria at bay.

"- the tent. Vinny, _please_." His voice was muffled against Vince's hip, but when he looked up, his eyes were dark and desperate. 

It was going to take a stronger man than Vince to turn down someone begging to suck his cock, especially when that someone was Brad. He let his hand fall to Brad's shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. Yes. Fuck, Brad, do it."

The drawstring on his sweatpants didn't stand a chance; his pants were around his ankles between one breath and another, the cold air hitting his legs like a slap. He almost flinched back as Brad pulled down his underwear, but Brad's hands were hot on his thighs. He pressed his lips to the crease of Vince's groin, the scruff of his beard brushing against Vince's cock, and said something that sounded like "big boy", but he couldn't think about that for too long because then Brad finally got his mouth on Vince's cock.

The wet heat was overwhelming, but it was really the view that made Vince feel like his knees were going to buckle. Brad, naked from the waist up - not even his hat - with his lips stretched wide around Vince, slowly sliding back and forth. The pace was a special kind of torture, because every time Brad pulled back, the cold air chilled the wet saliva left behind, right up until Brad's mouth covered it up again. The entire universe had narrowed down to those nerve endings, firing contradicting messages to Vince's poor brain at an impossible rate.

It was Vince's turn to beg. "Please, Brad. Please."

He didn't know what he was asking for, really, but Brad apparently had an idea, because he wrapped one of his broad hands around the base and started moving faster. Vince let his head fall back against the tree and gave himself over to the sensation until he had to squeeze Brad's shoulder in warning. "I'm gonna -"

Brad hummed a little in understanding. "That's it, come on, big boy."

Vince was never going to be able to hear Brad say that ever again without picturing this moment, right here, as Brad stroked him through his orgasm, come splashing across his chest. Brad didn't seem to mind the mess; he just ran a couple of fingers through it and brought it to his mouth, tasting it like it was his latest experiment in the test kitchen. Hell, he half expected Brad to offer him a taste before jotting down notes. The image made Vince's dick give one last half-hearted twitch, which didn't go unnoticed by Brad, judging by his grin as he gave his finger another lick. His lips were red and swollen, and Vince hadn't even kissed him yet.

He grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him up off his knees. Or at the very least, he grabbed the back of Brad's neck and Brad rose up quickly, taking Vince's silent demand. It only took a minute before Brad had completely taken over the kiss, turning what started hot and fierce into a methodical exploration of Vince's mouth.

The deliberate method was at odds with the way his hips were grinding against Vince's stomach, and Vince, he wanted to touch, wanted to see, so his hands scrabbled with the waist of Brad's sweats and his boxers, shoving them down. Brad hissed into Vince's mouth when the elastic waistbands got briefly hung up on his cock, but the second it was free, he was back to rubbing it against Vince's hip, sliding under his shirt. He didn't allow enough room between them for Vince to get a hand in, just desperately rutting against him until he finally came in hot spurts.

"I'm gonna have to burn this shirt," Vince murmured against Brad's cheek.

"Are you kidding me?" Brad laughed. "I'm gonna frame it."

He looked less wild now, even though he was still shirtless and sweaty and his hair was a wreck. His eyes were bright and sparkling, and Vince had to kiss him again.

"I always pictured you wearing your hat," Vince said, curling his fingers in the hair at the base of Brad's neck.

"You did, huh?" He sounded pleased. "Thought about it a lot?"

Vince shrugged, and Brad laughed again. "Don't try to play it cool, Mr. Cool Guy. You may have everybody else fooled, but I know."

He wasn't sure he'd been fooling anyone, but he wasn't about to admit that to Brad. "Come on, we should get dressed before someone comes by on a morning hike."

*

It wasn't until after they'd broken the camp down - a clumsy effort, with both of them taking every opportunity to bump shoulders and hips, to brush their hands together and occasionally get distracted with more - that Vince remembered Brad's shirts down by the beach. He left Brad to load the last of their gear into the back of their rental as he jogged back down to the lake.

It was all in the exact spot Brad had left it that morning, so Vince grabbed it up in one big bundle before spotting the small nosegay of flowers. The flowers Brad had picked for _him_. They already looked a little worse for wear, and probably wouldn't survive the drive, but Vince picked them up anyway and headed back to the SUV.

Brad already had it running, so Vince just tossed everything in the back seat, but not before he took one sniff of the little bouquet. He flushed with pleasure when Brad greeted him with a wide grin as he climbed into the passenger's seat.

"You mind if I turn on the A/C? It's actually kind of warm in here."

**Author's Note:**

> shouts to my friend B who is not in this fandom but let me show her that big boy crab montage and demanded that I use it in a porn context.


End file.
